Could any first day at any school anywhere possibly have been any worse?
‘I really made a mess of it!’ cried Boo. ‘Nothing, nothing, nothing could be worse than today!’
‘Squeak!’
Boo looked up. The mouse was perched on a tiny ledge of rock above him.
Suddenly he felt something dribble down his nose and drip, drip, drip into his mouth.
The mouse had wee-ed on him.
16
The Kung Poo Hero Returns
He still hadn’t caught the mouse when he reached the end of the wormhole.
The Werewolf General was waiting for him up in Mum’s bedroom. Boo was glad to see he was still in wolf shape. He’d had enough of humans for a while.
‘Well,’ asked the Werewolf General, ‘how did it go?’
‘Um, okay, sir,’ lied Boo, crawling out from under the bed and standing up unsteadily. It felt strange to be back in the cold of a Sleepy Whiskers winter after the heat of the volcano.
The Werewolf General smiled. ‘That bad? I remember my first day. I chased a guinea pig right round the school hall. And then I caught it.’
‘What was wrong with that, sir?’
‘The guinea pig was the Principal. She had me tied up in knots before I could blink. Don’t suppose she’s still there?’
‘I don’t think so, sir. The Principal now is a monkey. And one of my teachers is a pig. Not a guinea pig. A real pig — he tied me up in knots. But it’s okay really …’
‘Hmm. Don’t worry, Boo. It’ll get better,’ growled the Werewolf General gently.
‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,’ said Boo. ‘Um … there hasn’t been any sign of Mum, has there?’
‘No, Boo.’ The Werewolf General looked down his nose at him sympathetically. ‘I would have told you if there had been.’
‘Oh. Well, I just wondered,’ said Boo.
At least I can Change now, he thought, and relax. He shut his eyes and concentrated.
PLUNG!
The world steadied itself on four paws instead of two feet. He could smell old ice cream and the fresh kitten pie the Werewolf General must have had for lunch.
Boo stepped out of his shirt and borrowed pants and tossed them into his bag, then picked up the handle in his teeth and trotted out of the ice-cream shop and down the chilly path. It still gave him a pang to have to leave the shop. He wondered what the Werewolf General would think if he asked if he could come home? Surely he’d be okay by himself. He was supposed to be a Hero, wasn’t he?
But Mr and Mrs Bigpaws might be hurt. And they’d been so kind … and he had to admit that it was nice to come back to a house full of pups and good cooking smells. And it was just slightly terrifying to think of sleeping in a room next to a wormhole, even with the Werewolf General in town to keep an eye on it.
Mr Bigpaws was in the kitchen with Spot when Boo pushed through the doggie door. Boo sniffed. ‘Woof! What’s for dinner?’
‘Chicken salad,’ said Mr Bigpaws, using his teeth to arrange the chicken heads on a platter among the lettuce and tomatoes. ‘How was the School for Heroes?’
‘Oh, fine,’ said Boo.
‘I thought it would be,’ said Mr Bigpaws proudly. ‘We werewolves make the best Heroes in the universes.’
‘I bet you’re the best student they ever had,’ Spot said excitedly. ‘You’ll have to tell us everything over dinner!’
Boo gulped. ‘Oh, sure.’ He slunk off to his bedroom, hoping no one would notice his tail between his legs.
17
Midnight at the School for Heroes
His basket was too hot. Of course it’s too hot, thought Boo. His basket was bouncing on bubbles of molten rock. Soon his whiskers would burst into flame and then his tail …
Boo knew he was dreaming. But that didn’t help. There was no escape in dreams.
Suddenly the volcano vanished.
The world was black, and colder than the freezer in the Best Ice-Cream Shop in the Universes. Even the smells were frozen in this land of night.
But he could see. There were frozen things hanging in the darkness — hams and legs of lamb, a dead deer, and giant fish. There were massive cakes, oozing cream, all frozen too, and bags of strange berries glistening with frost. And there among the food was Mum, trapped in a giant block of ice, her mouth open in a frozen silent scream. And all around the frozen world was … nothing. Just cold and dark and pain …
Boo opened his eyes. He shivered. He felt cold. Colder than he had ever been, despite the snuggly blanket and cushions in his basket.
He snuggled back down, but he couldn’t sleep. Was Mum really frozen somewhere in the Ghastly Otherwhen? What was the Ghastly Otherwhen like? One thing was for sure. Unless he learnt to be a proper Hero he’d have no chance at all of ever saving her.
But could he really become a Hero?
He couldn’t even Wham! Bam! Pow! properly. But he’d learn! And … and maybe Princess Princess would come with him and help rescue Mum, too.
Boo had a sudden vision of himself and Princess Princess striding through the Ghastly Otherwhen together. Princess Princess’s Hero clothes would flutter in the wind and he’d be in human shape, but half a metre taller than he was now and even more muscly …
No more widdling this time. He’d Wham! Bam! Pow! any bogey that came along! Woof! And he’d Zoom! the Greedle till it widdled in terror! Princess Princess would watch wide-eyed and then she’d say …
Boo sighed and scratched his ear with his front paw. It was no use. He couldn’t go back to sleep. And he couldn’t imagine Princess Princess looking at him all wide-eyed and admiring.
Not yet, anyhow.
He had to face it. He was a long way from being the sort of Hero who could invade the Ghastly Otherwhen. But he wasn’t going to stop trying! Boo rolled over onto his back with his paws in the air and tried to sleep again. But something niggled at him. His pants!
Boo sat up in bed and scratched his other ear with his hind leg. How could he have forgotten his pants? He’d promised to give Mug back his spare pair in the morning — and there was no way he was going to spend another day smelling of green fungus.
He had to get his pants back now, wash and mend them, then iron them fresh for school tomorrow. Boo hesitated. Would the wormhole take him back to school even in the middle of the night? He shrugged. He just had to hope it would.
Boo crept out of bed and padded down the stairs, then bounded swiftly over the slushy ground to the ice-cream shop and stepped inside. The shop’s dark was no problem for a werewolf — Boo could see with his nose even better than his eyes.
He padded into Mum’s bedroom, feeling the familiar pang as he smelt her scent, then crawled on his tummy under the bed. The floor sank below him. Suddenly he was in the wormhole again.
No smell of mouse this time. Either he’d scared it away or it was asleep. Boo scampered along the wormhole floor. It was easier going on four legs than two.
Ah, there was the reddish light of the volcano. He could smell it, too, a bit like someone was burning a tin of flea powder. He’d needed his thick winter coat back in Sleepy Whiskers, but once again he felt like shedding half his fur.
And suddenly he was there.
‘Student approaching!’ he called.
No one answered. Boo peered out. A skinny tiger with bald patches on its fur and a patch over one eye snored in a heap by the wormhole. Boo bent down and yelled in its ear, ‘Student approaching!’
‘What?! Who?! How?!’ The tiger leapt shakily to its feet. ‘Don’t worry,’ it growled, unsheathing its claws. ‘I’ll save you!’
‘I don’t need saving. I just came to get my trousers.’
The ancient tiger stared at him grumpily. ‘What did you wake me up for, then?’ It settled back down onto the warm rock and in a second it was snoring again.
Boo gazed around. The school looked different at night. The smoke cloud had lifted, leaving wisps that seemed to cling to the dark rock in case they fell into the
gurgling mass below. The cliffs were dark smudges against bright stars, each as red as if it was a spark from the volcano. The bare rock ledge glowed red in the light from the caldera. Even the bats had vanished.
A faint echo of music and creaking wheelchairs and walking frames sounded from further up the cliffs. Boo wondered if the old Heroes were dancing, or if there was some Hero skill they practised to music.
Glug, glug, glug, went the lava down in the crater like a giant pot of Mrs Bigpaws’s cow’s head in tomato sauce.
School smelt different at night, he thought. No smells of all the different students, no smells of lunches from fifty universes; just boiling rock, tiger fur, and the far-off whiff of talcum powder and denture gel.
Boo lifted his nose and sniffed again. No, there was someone else here! He could smell someone … or was it something? A familiar smell …
Yesterday, that was it. It was her smell. But there was something different about it tonight. Boo sat back on his haunches and pricked up his ears. What was Yesterday doing here? Maybe she’d stayed at school overnight … or maybe she’d come back again to study in the library, or … what would you come back to Hero School at night for? wondered Boo. Not many students had to collect their trousers!
Anyhow, this wasn’t getting his pants. Boo trotted over the dark rock and around the cliff to the bathroom. Luckily the door was ajar, so he didn’t have to Change to use the door handle. He’d had enough of being human shaped!
Boo wriggled his nose behind the paper-towel bin and pulled out the pants with his teeth. Now, to take them home and sort them out so he’d look hot for Princess Princess tomorrow. He’d even have another (spew!) bath.
It was only a matter of time before Princess Princess forgot that she’d first seen him with fur and paws, thought Boo, as he scampered back towards the wormhole entrance. Suddenly the scent he’d smelt before wafted across the rocks, clear even above the scent of burning rock.
Boo sat back on his haunches and let his pants drop to the hot rock. ‘Woof!’ he barked softly. ‘Yesterday?’
No one answered. Boo called again. ‘Yesterday? I know it’s you! I can smell you.’
A shadow moved over by the rubbish bin. ‘Boo? What are you doing here?’
‘Just getting my pants.’ Boo waited for her to giggle when she saw him in cute-puppy form again. But she didn’t. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Me? Oh, nothing.’ Yesterday was wearing the same tatty tunic that she’d worn during the day. Her face looked whiter and thinner in the starlight. She was holding a big bulging bag.
Boo trotted over and sniffed the bag. It smelt like it was made from the same sort of leather as her tunic. ‘Why are you at school in the middle of the night? And what’s that?’
‘It’s none of your business,’ she said sharply.
Boo thought about what she’d said. ‘Well, no,’ he agreed cautiously. ‘But I’m curious.’ He wondered if she’d object if he sniffed her bum to find out more. Probably, he thought. Humans were so weird about their bums.
Yesterday suddenly looked as if she might cry. ‘Please, don’t ask any questions! I’m tired and … and just go away! I’m going home now,’ she added. ‘Go on. You go first!’
‘Well, all right,’ said Boo, hurt. He padded off over the warm ledge, picked up his pants in his teeth again, then marched past the snoring tiger and into the wormhole. He could hear a faint slithering as Yesterday dragged the bag over the smooth stone to the wormhole’s entrance. And then the noise vanished behind him, and there was just silence …
Boo trotted down the tunnel, his paws growing colder, his pants in his mouth. Why had Yesterday been hiding in the shadows of the School for Heroes? What was so secret? And if his nose wasn’t mistaken — and wolf noses were never wrong — what had she been doing emptying the school rubbish bin into a big leather bag?
18
A Warrior Mouse
The mouse was sitting smack bang in the middle of the tunnel when Boo sank down through the wormhole the next morning, in human form again, muscles bulging heroically, his pants mended and everything washed (including himself) and ironed and perfect.
‘Squeak!’ The mouse peered up at him.
Boo peered down at it from his unsteady human height. ‘If you wee on my clean clothes again, I’m going to have you for breakfast,’ he said. ‘Well, second breakfast anyway,’ he added, remembering he was full of Mrs Bigpaws’s pigeon pancakes.
The mouse wrinkled its tiny nose at him. ‘Squeak!’
‘Look,’ said Boo. ‘Mice are scared of werewolves. Remember? I’m big and ferocious. You’re small and squeaky. Keep out of my way and I’ll try to forget you’re here. Okay?’
‘Squeak!’ The mouse jumped up onto his shoulder.
‘That does it!’ roared Boo. ‘Got you!’
‘Squeak!’ The mouse peered up tremulously from Boo’s fist.
‘Right,’ said Boo, staring down at it. No more squeaks, he thought. No more mouse widdle on his head or the smell of mouse droppings on his clothes. Just one chomp and the mouse would be gone.
‘Squeak?’
He couldn’t do it. The mouse was so small and so spunky — and suddenly he felt small too, and not at all spunky, a new kid on his way to a strange school through a strange tunnel.
Boo sighed and put the mouse down on the floor of the wormhole. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘I’m sick of playing hide-and-squeak with a mouse. Just go away. Go find some cheese or find a place to hide like a normal mouse. Please?’
‘Squeak?’ The mouse ran up his trouser leg, squeezed out between his shirt buttons, then dived up into the pocket of Boo’s shirt.
‘That isn’t what I meant,’ said Boo.
‘Squeak?’ The mouse peered out, then snuggled down again.
Boo stared at his pocket. The mouse wasn’t hiding. It looked like it had deliberately chosen to sit in his pocket.
Boo grinned. ‘Do you want to go to the School for Heroes, too?’
He hadn’t been serious. But the mouse poked its head up over the edge of his pocket again, and twitched its whiskers. ‘Squeak,’ it said determinedly.
‘Does that mean you want to be a Hero?’
‘Squeak,’ agreed the mouse.
‘Look,’ said Boo. ‘I hate to tell you this. But mice just aren’t Heroes.’ He stopped, suddenly remembering Princess’s voice yesterday, saying, ‘Dogs just can’t be Heroes.’
If a werewolf could be a Hero, maybe a mouse could too? Nah, he thought, ridiculous. But if the mouse really wanted to be a Hero then he didn’t have the heart to stop it trying.
‘Look … just stay out of the way. No poking your head up in class or when anyone can see you. Any uncalled-for squeak out of you and I’ll pick you up by the tail and throw you in the volcano. Understood?’
‘Squeak!’ It was a little muffled by the pocket, but it was clear enough.
‘Okay,’ said Boo. He picked up his school bag and began to walk down the wormhole to school.
19
Bogey Secrets
So the days continued.
Boo learnt about the Top Ten Nasties in The Nasty Book of Nasties. He learnt to stay out of the library when the books were practising their Book Kan Doo.
He learnt to stay out of the way during wheelchair races, or during the oldies’ spear practice. Some of the ancient Heroes refused to wear glasses, so their aim was a bit out. Or maybe old Heroes just had an … interesting sense of humour.
He almost managed a ten-second Zoom! He discovered the Aaaagh!er pit next to the gymnasium, and the one just to the right of the assembly door, too, and used up half his Band-Aids. He also learnt never to share Mug’s zombie spaghetti sandwiches (they wriggled round inside him all afternoon). And every afternoon when he came home after school, he went down to the creek just to practise a bit more, punching at the branches and trying to tie up the boulders in a Zoom!
If only determination was enough to make a Hero! But whatever happened, he’d know he�
��d done his best.
There had been no more warnings from Miss Cassandra. Boo had only glimpsed the giant chicken strutting far off down the corridors. Level 1s weren’t eligible for Finding class. Some of the bogeys from the Ghastly Otherwhen were just too ghastly for beginning Heroes to even look at.
Boo was grateful. He had enough to cope with already without a giant chicken yelling ‘Doom!’ at him.
It was so hard doing stuff in human form. His brain didn’t seem to work as well when it was perched up above two feet instead of down close to four. And he couldn’t get used to managing hands and feet at the same time either.
If only he’d Changed more before trying to be a Hero! Or if only he could go back to wolf form here …
He hadn’t admitted to the Werewolf General that he hadn’t started going to school in wolf form, as the Werewolf General had advised. The old Hero wouldn’t understand! How could he explain he’d made such a fool of himself in wolf form? The whole of Hero School — not just Princess Princess — would giggle at him again as soon as they saw his cute puppy face.
No, he just had to stay looking human. Even when it was most difficult — like now.
It was Wham! Bam! Pow! class down in the big gymnasium cavern again this morning. Boo stared as Princess Princess neatly crushed a lump of lava with her foot. When he’d tried it all he’d got was a sore toe. She must be the most heroic student the School for Heroes had ever had, he thought glumly. If only he could be good at something. Anything, that Princess Princess would admire.
‘Oh, Boo,’ she’d say —
The bell rang, deep in the rock of the school. Boo abandoned his daydream and traipsed after the others across the gently steaming black rock to their classroom, carefully avoiding the two ancient heroic octopuses having a sword duel in the basketball court.
Lessons for a Werewolf Warrior Page 10